62 Thoughts We Had During Week 4 Of The Bachelorette

By Millie Lester - 13 Oct 2017

We are already one month into this absolute shit storm of a love story and so far someone has pissed on a plant, a man cried over a dirty rag, a seven-foot bodybuilding wizard bent a fork with his MIND, a woman-hater punched a wardrobe and Sophie Monk said ‘condom’ on national TV. So while love may not be in the air just yet, the scent of dead love fern and testosterone is running bloody rampant through our nostrils.

Here are 62 thoughts we had during week 4 of The Bachelorette.

Omfg we are OPENING with #plantgate. This dead fern has more airtime than Osher and AJ combined.

Somewhere at a water cooler in a Bunnings staff room is a PR team who are absolutely kicking themselves—what a yuge missed sponsorship opportunity.

Meanwhile, my man James is enjoying a hot mug of Jarrah while the kids fight. Shutup and take my ovaries!

Right now I firmly refute the rumours that Stu and Soph end up together. I’d be less surprised to find out Stu sold his sperm thirty-seven years ago to pay for a parking ticket and has only now decided to track his daughter down because since he won $500 mill in Lotto he now has nothing else to do.

I also don’t need to read a Daily Mail article to know they let Stu on the show on the condition that he brought his own ocean liner.

This show is so caucasian and heteronormative that the only thing the guys can bully each other about is being separated in age by four years.

Ok ok so lemme get this straight, Stu would leave his entire herd of children behind to chase the love of his life around the world. Red flag or nah?

The old codger just dished out the worst insult on the show to date and no one’s noticed because they’re so concerned that this father-daughter duo are canoodling on the couch.

If someone told me they’d be brutalised by their friends for being seen with me, I’d punch them in the jugular faster than James can build a wardrobe.

OMG NOW THEY’RE KISSING. This is some Game of Thrones bullshit.

I know they’re not technically related but this kiss is making me more uncomfortable than Roger Federer’s acting in those Lindt TV ads.

Back at the Brotel, soulja boi Jarrod is about to put himself into a stress-induced coma.

Hopefully.

The show’s budget is officially dipping below Play School levels, in fact they’ve borrowed all the sets and costumes.

Sophie’s literally put Blake in a dickhead onesie. And she definitely cackled about it off-set for an hour while chain-smoking a pack of duzzas in the driveway.

HEY HOW BOUT THE ONE NIGHT IN MEXICO SAUCE. LOOKS DELICIOUS DOESN’T IT, AUSTRALIA? AND THOSE ONE NIGHT IN MEXICO TACO KITS. I MUST PURCHASE SOME NEXT TIME I ATTEND A COLES RETAIL OUTLET.

Every man who walked out of the kitchen to avoid cooking just now should be put to death. No, I’m not overacting.

Mack genuinely doesn’t want to treat Sophie bad, he doesn’t want to make her sad, and he defs reckons their love can be as deep as the ocean. (This is a direct quote from his personal Twitter account).

Jarrod is lost for words because he’s saving them all for #plantgate conversation 6.0.

Ok, so Stu has now darkhorsed it to the top all because he couldn’t give two shits about who weed on Jarrod’s seed.

Blake is half an hour off having a drunken teary on the bathroom floor.

And now they’ve stolen all the toys from the Playschool set and repurposed them as childhood mementoes because they spent all their money on ONE NIGHT IN MEXICO TACO KITS.

Jarrod is acting like his rag just returned from a ten-year posting in Iraq.

Is he going to be sniffing little bits of Sophie like that in ten years?

Mack is absolutely blowing his backstage meet & greet with Soph, he is defs sweet seconds away from getting thrown into the back of a Mitsubishi.

Let’s fast forward through the daily cocktail #plantgate.

I know Sophie’s wearing love goggles the size of a six-foot rosacea-suffering vineyard vulture, but do my eyes deceive me too? Is Luke-Hunkaspunk-Surferman in the bottom three??

NO. BIG MISTAKE, SOPHIE. YUGE.

Also, a moment of silence for Mack whose tears are as deep as the ocean tonight.

This next episode better be sixty minutes of James cracking cheesey-Gs, those smiles are the only thing keeping me from sticking Potato Gems in my eyes every time Jarrod pulls out his bucket of dead seeds.

I wonder if Osh comes over and throws the ol’ pigskin around with the boys when the camera’s off. It must get lonely in the host’s quarters when he’s not on set saying half a sentence twice a week.

Jarrod answers every single rhetorical question very seriously and in great detail. He was for sure that kid at school who used to remind teachers when they forgot to assign home readers.

I hope he got pantsed in the art room on the reg.

Jarrod’s obviously worked so hard on portraying himself as the ‘old fashioned winemaker with a heart’a gold’ and the producers have been like, ‘you’re a gremlin, Harry’.

Meanwhile, Apollo is putting on a clinic at his second single date.

In fairness, when the date’s a flock of puppies, all you have to do is turn up.

Boy can that fella wear a chunky knit. Phwoar.

Fair enough that Apollo’s complaining about not know what romance is, he only just came out of his mother’s cervix.

He’s such a good cut of meat though, if only he wasn’t a Las Vegas-based sorcerer.

Doga is definitely a form of exercise I can get around. Now there’s a class that would’ve made my HECS debt worth it.

When Jarrod hears that Apollo got a second kiss, he’s going to pass a kidney stone. And then probably bury it in the garden and call it his ‘love rock’.

Stu defs donated a couple of yachts for this group date.

I love that Sophie gets to steer the water vessel, the guys must be spewing over this power imbalance.

Except Blake who’s trying to start a massage train.

I LOVE that Blake doesn’t feel the need to flaunt his masculinity. He’s a massive tosser, but instead of being all like MUST WIN RACE, MUST BUILD FIRE, MUST OPEN DOOR, he’s like; gotta cheat the system and piss on as many plants as it takes to get alone time with Sophie.

That’s the kind of strategy that gets you a one-way ticket to Bachie in Paradise (feckin YASSSSS).

I can’t see Stu as anything other than an overprotective father figure in bootleg jeans.

Blake’s going to get a roasting from the boyos on the group chat tonight after his feelings chat with Soph.

Praise be to our lord and saviour Jesus Christ amen, we can finally put this Double Delight Rose to rest with Jarrod’s love fern.

Sam’s response to the stretch hummer is reason enough not to trust him with being responsible for the upbringing of other humans. I wouldn’t let that man jump start my car even if it had broken down in a KFC drive-thru on Christmas Eve.

Sam sounds like he’s interviewing for a job as a window cleaner at a community radio station.

Sophie needs to clock him in the schnoz if he gives her one more ‘career tip’.

Sam is now mansplaining Sophie’s career and industry to her, even though his professional job title is literally ‘Voiceover Man’.

Sophie—you better stop, better run away. This man is the very definition of poison.

You don’t call yourself a Connect Four wizard and then lose to a second row four-token column. I have not a skerrick of respect left for this schlep.

Alright boys (Jarrod), let’s see if we can get through a cocktail party without talking about urine.

Not. A. Chance. Jarrod’s love fern has sprouted an eighth of a leaf and we will hear about it from now until the end of time because this man a button short of a cardigan.

The ads for this rose ceremony promised max shock factor. If Jarrod doesn’t choke Blake with a dirty rag and remove a flesh mask to reveal himself as Jack The Ripper, I’m walking.

YAS James. Now don’t you stay too long, your life with me is waiting.

Sophie has just waltzed in here with her smokey eyes, unconventional LBD and flat-out potty mouth and just turned the conventional structure of the sacred rose ceremony on its head!

And by golly has this bold move from the producers Sophie paid off—smell ya later, Sam.

I’m only watching next week’s eps to see Jarrod blow a gasket when Sophie tells him is love fern is creepy as f*ck.

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By Millie Lester

Millie hails from the island state of Tasmania where her obsession with delicious foods began. She enjoys writing, but more importantly can play table tennis with both hands and has never lost a game of Cluedo in her life. Her greatest achievement to date was making eye contact with Roger Federer at the 2007 Australian Open.

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